


Watching A Master At Work

by TaraTheMeerkat



Category: Father Brown (2013)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:01:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29808792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaraTheMeerkat/pseuds/TaraTheMeerkat
Summary: Mrs McCarthy likes to help, for all her complaining. Lady Felicia likes to watch.(A shamlessly short and shamelessly fluffy ficlet, because this paring needs more love.)
Relationships: Bridgette McCarthy/Felicia Montague
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Watching A Master At Work

“Imagine, a great woman of your age not knowing how to darn a sock.”

Bridgette McCarthy's voice was scolding, but not scornful, a certain softness about it.

“I prefer to watch a master at work, Mrs McCarthy.” Lady Felicia's voice was softer still, gently teasing, but unmistakably affectionate, her chin resting in her hand, leaning on the table next to Bridgette. “You’ve got ever such skilled hands,” she continued, practically _cooing_.

“Poppycock,” Bridgette blustered, secretly pleased, but swallowing it. “You think you can flatter me into darning all your torn clothes free of charge, is that it?”

“No, I mean it!” Felicia scooted her chair closer, sending an unexplainable shiver down Bridgette’s spine. She leaned close, so that Bridgette could feel warm breath upon her cheek, and brushed a finger across Bridgette’s hand, needle still clutched within it. The Countess’s own hands were as soft and pale as a child’s, hands that had clearly never seen hard work or manual labour. Bridgette froze stock-still, a strange blush creeping up her cheeks. “The things these fingers could’ve done, if only you were less... Godly,” Felicia murmured, softly, as though to no-one in particular.

“I have no idea what you mean,” Bridgette blustered, pulling her hand away, blush spreading.

“Yes. Well.” Felicia sat back in her chair, a blush on her own face. “Besides,” she said with a sniff. “Why on _earth_ would I want all my torn clothes darning? It’s far easier to just buy replacements.”

Bridgette tutted at the wastefullness, before suddenly turning her head to look at the countess. “Then why, pray, am I sat here doing this?” she snapped.

“I told you,” Felicia said, with a soft, almost wistful smile. “I like to watch a master at work.”


End file.
